“That’s what I never understood, Jason. You’re smart, you’ve always worked hard, first in college and then in your career, you come from a wealthy family, I know you have a huge trust fund. Why did you have to cheat?”
“Because I could. I know that sounds like a dumb excuse, but I was playing a game with myself, I suppose. See how far I could go.”
She leaned back against her desk. “Thanks for being honest.”
“I really do want to hire you.”
“For what?”
“I’m buying the old Holiday Inn downtown. I’m gutting it. Complete re-design. There will be gardens and three restaurants—maybe four—and I’m cutting down on the guest rooms and putting in full suites. High-end business hotel. Totally legit. I want you to be the project architect.”
She stared at him in total shock. She couldn’t even speak.
He grinned. “I’m not lying.”
Commercial design was her specialty, and she had always wanted to be involved with a major downtown renovation project. To date, her projects had been small; this could make her career.
“Murphy & Sons would be the contractor of course. I’ve watched the company, seen what you’ve done with it. I looked at some of your renovations. You’re good, your vision is amazing.”
She blinked a couple times, surprised at his enthusiasm. “Thank you.”
He leaned forward. “So? Are you in?”
“I have to think about this.”
“I’ll give you a week. The deal should go through on Monday and I want to get things moving quickly. Having you on board will help with the investors.”
She was really going to have to think about this. She should have said no right off the bat. Accepting the job would cause friction in her family. But her father was a businessman first. She’d discuss it with him, weigh the pros and cons, and then come to a decision. It would give her the platform to move away from the construction end and solidly into design.
“I’ll let you know by Monday,” she said.
He stood up, grinning ear to ear. He walked over to where she leaned against her desk and put his hands on her arms. “It is good to see you, Shauna. Maybe—”
She immediately cut him off, knowing what that look in his eyes meant.
“Jason, if I work for you—and that is a big if—it will be work only. If you can’t accept that now, I’m automatically turning it down.”
He sighed dramatically, then winked at her. “I understand. And I agree to your terms.”
“And one more—I want to be in charge of the books. All the books.”
“You really don’t forgive.”
“I forgive, Jason—but I don’t forget. It protects you as well as me.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know on Monday.”
He leaned over and kissed her on her cheek. “Talk to you soon.” He left, passing her father, who was on his way in, sweating in his work vest and jeans.
“Mr. Murphy,” Jason said.
Her dad frowned in surprise. “Jason? Um, hello.”
“Good to see you,” he said, then waved to Shauna and walked out, the bell jingling over the main door.
Her dad stared at her. “That was Jason Butler?”
“Yeah.”
“He doesn’t look like he spent three years in prison. He looks too good.”
“It was minimum security federal prison, and he’s been out for six months.”
“What did he want?”
“To hire us.” She explained the project. “Think about it, Dad.”
“All right—but it’s really up to you. If we can handle the job, it would an asset to our company.”
Her thoughts exactly. She glanced at her watch and cringed. “I gotta go to Dooley’s and help Granddad with the bar. It’s going to be packed with regulars—he’s reopening tonight, and I don’t want him alone.”
“Doesn’t he have staff? You’ve been burning the candle at both ends, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine, Daddy.” She kissed him and ran out.
Chapter Eleven
Callie Wood had lived in a run-down apartment complex near Sacramento State University. All apartments in the two-story structure faced the courtyard, where a cracked and over-crowded pool gleamed in the sun. Callie’s unit was in the second floor northwest corner. No one answered after Sam knocked, so he went to speak to the manager.
“I’m here about the tenants in Unit 27.”
“Tenants?” The manager, Oscar, snorted. He was in his seventies, scrawny and hunched backed. “One tenant. Joey Gleason.”
Sam showed Oscar Callie’s photograph. “Do you recognize her? She listed this address as her residence on a job application.”